Lower Decks
by DekaGreenRanger
Summary: Novelization of Season 7's episode 15. As four young ensings vie for promotion, the Enterprise is undergoing a secret, life-threatening, and dangerous mission and even though none of them know its true purpose, each of them is playing a role in it.
1. Chapter 1

**Star Trek: The Next Generation**

**Season 7, Episode 15**

**"Lower Decks"**

**based on the original story by Ronald Wilkerson and Jean Louise Matthias**

[**Author's Commentary: **To those wondering, this is going to be a novelization of Season 7's fifteenth episode. I'll be adding scenes and even making some veeerrrry-minor changes to some parts of the episode. I am working on the entire novel but I'll only upload Chapter 1 of 5. If you guys are interested in the rest of the story, let me know through your comments and reviews and I will gladly post the rest. They are much appreciated.

This is my first ever Star Trek fanfiction, so this is a practice for me as the outline of another Star Trek: TNG story that takes place within the same season and year (not an episode novelization) is still being worked on. So, this will be practice for me.]

[**Copyright notice: **STAR TREK, STAR TREK THE NEXT GENERATION, as well as all respective trademarks, are property of CBS Paramount Television. No copyright infringement is or was intended during the writing and publishing of this novel. The author (in this case, myself) believes that the content falls within fair use clause of their trademarks and copyrights.]

**CHAPTER 1**

**Year 2370  
****NCC 1701-D USS Enterprise - Ten Forward Lounge**

Ten Forward was filled with the late-night crew and non-Starfleet patrons. Commander William T. Riker sat tirefully at the bar, expecting his drink to be delivered within a timely fashion.

Riker turned back scanned the lounge. He noticed a table occupied with four young officers at one table. At another he saw a familiar woman wearing a blue science uniform sitting alone. She had flowing, auburn-colored, Cinderella-fashion, abundant hair with gentle waves. It had to be Lieutenant Commander Deanna Troi, he thought. This was the way Troi wore her hair in 2370.

He started over to her, carrying a red pad. Deanna Troi sat alone at one of the bright white tables. On the table was a board game with slots, some of which were occupied with red and blue balls.

"Deanna," Riker called out to her from behind. A startled Troi flinched as she pivoted to see the red-uniformed First Officer approaching her. When she saw Riker, she sheepishly giggled and greeted him. Riker chuckled a bit as well himself. "Sorry, counselor!" he said warmly with a grin. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh, it's alright," she laughed playfully.

"You have a moment?"

"Oh, yes! Have a seat!" she invited as she brushed the game to the side of the table with her arm. "So, how are those Crew Evaluations coming?" Troi inquired, fingering her pad.

"They're alright!" Riker replied brightly as he fingered his own. Then he looked at her. "I've been thinking a great deal about who to promote as an assistant maintainance worker for the Nacelle Lab. I had a particular crewmember in mind. Her name is Commander Caroline Fletcher. She works at Main Engineering. Was there someone you had in mind, Counselor?"

"Yes," Troi replied firmly. "Commander Andrea Carstairs. She's a science officer who worked on Deck 5 for a short time."

Ensign Sam Lavelle and Alyssa Ogawa was listening as closely as he could, but Troi and Riker could barely be heard. The other two Ensigns accompanying him minded their own business. "Are they over there talking about Crew Evaluations?" wondered he.

"If they are, what's it matter?" replied the Vulcan Taurik with a deep low-pitched voice, and dark Asian-like tanned skin.

"We're being evaluated on our performance," were the grim words out of his mouth. "Excuse me!" he called out to Ben, getting his attention as he went over, bending down to their level. "Could you do us a huge huge favor?"

"Sure," said Ben. "Anything. Just say the word."

"Okay. You see those two, over there?" Ensign Lavelle pointed over to where Wil Riker and Deanna Troi were sitting. "We believe we overheard them talking about Crew Evaluations and were wondering if you could go find out for us... please?"

"Okay!" Ben said willingly.

Then he head off to clean a table, not far from Deanna and Riker.

"Fletcher has more experience with propulsion systems," said Riker as he fingered buttons on his pad.

"But Carstairs is better with people," advised Troi, giving Riker a glance. "Considering that this is a supervisory position, I'd go with her."

Riker's mind was made up about Fletcher, however. But he knew Troi had a sturdy point as he tapped data into his pad. "I guess you're right," he said glumly. Just then, a thought struck his mind. He remembered something. He looked at Deanna an unsure look. "Didn't we just do crew evaluation reports?"

Troi looked up at him with confidence in her dark eyes. She remembered as though she had just did them. "Three months ago!"

Riker held his fisted hand over his stretched lips as he let out a yarn. "Seems like three weeks," he said tirefully. "Why don't we give everybody a promotion, and call it a night." Riker looked at his listener with brightened eyes. "Commander!"

Troi was instantly filled with glee. Her eyes were the next pair to be brightened. She loved being referred to as a Commander and was anxiously waiting to be one. "Fine with me, Captain!" she said happily.

Riker was distracted by the presence of the nearby busboy. "Could we have two coffees, please?"

"Y'all sure may!" replied the energetic waitor. "Better not consume too much, though! Much sleep is gonna be needed shortly."

Amused by Ben's joking reply, Troi and Riker exploded in laughter. The two wanted to avoid disturbing the other attendees at this late time of night. So, they managed to keep they volume to a minimum. However, they could be heard across Ten Forward, by a not-so-happy red-uniformed crewmember.

"What's so funny?" wondered Ensign Sam Lavelle. "What's so funny about crew evaluations?"

"Don't worry 'bout it, Sam!" Ensign Alyssa Ogawa delivered a friendly pat on the arm.

"Can't we just try and have a good time here," said a yellow-uniformed female, who was something of a Banjoran legend.

"Sorry, Sito!" said Lavelle bitterly. "I can't have a good time when my career is being decided across the room." Visibly frustrated, he had no choice but to remember the one thing his mother would tell him - thoughts create things. He desperately wanted a promotion, and there was one main reason for it. Lavelle closed his eyes and held his crossed fingers on either side of his head, chanting aloud, "Think promotion, promotion, promotion..."

Taurik was listening carefully, watching in the same way. "You can't really believe that what you're doing will influence the outcome of your evaluation," said he.

Lavelle opened his eyes. They were filled with anger and contempt. Slightly offended, he dismissed what the Vulcan had said and faded his eyes to a close once again and continued, "Promotion. Promotion. Promotion. Promotion. Promotion."

"It's a time-honored strategy, Taurik," said Ogawa with a finger beside her head.

"The Vedeks of the Janalan order maintain a round-the-clock chant for the well-being of the Bajoran people," added Sito with half a grin.

"Considering the history of your planet, that doesn't exactly validate what he's doing," replied Taurik.

"Promote me, please!" he grumbled, lowering his fingers. "So I can make Lieutenant... and have my very own room!"

"If you're unhappy sharing quarters with me, then you should put in for a new room assignment," recommened Taurik. After a brief pause, he then added, "Just in case you're not promoted."

Alyssa Ogawa let out a giggle as she held her beverage and Sam Lavelle even magaged to grin.

"I've been thinking about who to promote to ops," Riker told Troi.

"You mean the new night duty officer?" Troi asked in a way of requesting confirmation.

Riker nodded to confirm before continuing, "Lavelle is an obvious candidate." Ben set his coffee down in front of him before serving Troi. "But I'm mostly considering Ensign Sito."

"Thank you," Troi said as she looked up at Ben, already taking a sip from her coffee.

"You're welcome," said Ben, not too long before shooting her a sly smile. "You sure about dessert?"

"Yes! Don't tempt me!" she firmly replied.

Ben grinned at both of them before starting away. Troi giggled a bit before taking her second sip from her mug. Ben, trying to look ever so innocent went back over to where the four Ensigns were seated, lightly bobbing his tray. Lavelle was the first to notice him, then Sito.

"So, are they working on crew evaluations?" asked Lavelle, trying not to sound too eager to find out.

"Yep!" Ben confirmed happily.

"What are they talking about?" asked Sito, leaning in.

"It's not my place to say!" said the busboy teasingly.

"Come on, Ben!" Sito begged.

"Please!" Lavelle begged.

"Okay," said Ben. "But I'm not sure you two are gonna like it." He leaned down as to respect their privacy. "Apparently, you two are up for the same job." Upon disclosing this information, Ben had worn a merry look on his face. The faces of Sito and Lavelle were anything but. They didn't like the sound of this, at all.

"Did you hear what position?" Sito asked, hoping desperately that this wasn't as bad as she and Lavelle thought.

Ben sighed, his facial expression not looking as gleeful. "Don't shoot the messenger for the bad news, but I think I heard it was the ops part."

* * *

[So, that's gonna do it for Chapter 1. Please let me know what you think of this piece and let me know if you're interested in further chapters! :)]


	2. Chapter 2

**Star Trek: The Next Generation**

**Season 7, Episode 15**

**"Lower Decks"**

**based on the original story by Ronald Wilkerson and Jean Louise Matthias**

[**Author's Commentary: **This is chapter 2 of my novelization of Season 7's episode 15, my first Star Trek fanfiction. I would like to thank a user by the name of smo13 fpr encouraging me to continue on with this project..]

**CHAPTER 2**

**Main Bridge**

The U.S.S Enterprise flew swiftly in the starry space of the galaxy. On the bridge, the ship was on Red Alert and the crew were at it, trying to resolve the problem. Sito Jaxa stood at tactical as the usual Klingon worker stood by. Riker was seated in the middle of the three main seats, in Picard's usual chair.

"Lock phasers on target!" ordered Riker.

"Phasers locked," said Sito.

"The enemy is firing," announced the android Data as he fingered his Ops controls.

"Helm, hard to starboard?" Riker asked to confirm.

"Hard starboard," replied Lavelle at the Helm.

"Fire phasers," Riker ordered.

Worf gave her an alarmed look, his eyes all widened. He didn't say anything but he looked on as though she wasn't doing something right. Sito nervously fingered the controls of Tatacal. "Firing!"

Data looked on out at the viewscreen with his gold robotic eyes. His fingers were motion-free at the ops controls as he looked dead-on. Data looked down and worked the controls again. "The target is destroyed," said he.

Riker fingered some controls on the arm rest next to him. "End simulation sequence, secure from drill." He rose from Picard's seat and tugged down at the waistband of his burgundy-red uniform, taking a few steps closer to the large viewscreen. "Alpha-shift, your response time was seven percent slower than Gamma-shift. I'd like all departments to submit drill evaluation reports by oh nine-hundred hours."

Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge listened to Riker intently from Main Engineering. As soon as Riker finished, the dark-skinned short-haired engineer pivoted his head to junior engineer working the wall controls behind him. "Ensign," said he to acquire Taurik's attention. "You'll write that report."

His order was firm, a bit stern. Taurik wasn't sure he liked the way he delivered that order but knew not to defy. "Yes, sir," he said agreeably.

"What happened back there, Ensign," Riker asked Sito, back on the bridge. Sito knew he would ask as she prepared herself for the confrontation.

"I'm sorry, sir. When we changed course I had to re-lock phasers before I could fire."

"Understandable." Riker nodded. "But next time, try letting the locking relay float until the actual order to fire is given." The two gave one another a friendlier stare as he continued, "They might not teach that trick at the Academy, but it works."

A wider smile spread across Sito's lips. "Thank you, sir," said she, warmly.

"Lavelle!" Riker suddenly called.

"Sir!" Sam replied as he swiveled in his chair to turn to him.

"Resume, previous course in speed."

"Aye, aye, sir."

Confusion filled Riker's face. His brow rose. "Only one "aye" is sufficient in acknowledgement, Ensign."

Picard came out of the Ready Room. "Helm, change course for the Argaya system, maximum warp," he ordered as he walked up to Riker.

"Aye, sir," said Lavelle as he complied with that order.

"What happened with the rendezvous with the Clement?" asked Riker.

"I've just received new orders from Starfleet," replied Picard. "We'll discuss it in the Observation Lounge. Mister Data, Mister Worf."

Worf and Data left their stations and followed Picard up the ramp and into the ramp that led into the Observation Lounge, as did Riker.

"Ensign Sito," called Commander Riker as he followed Data, Worf, and Picard into the ramp that led to the observation lounge. "Take over at Ops."

"Yes, sir," she replied as she started away from Tactical, descending the ramp, and taking her seat at the abandoned Ops station.

Lavelle fingered the helm controls, focusing on them. He knew his female friend found her new position next to him, but he ignored her. He continued with his work but an uncomfortable beat of silence filled the bridge.

"That Argaya System is close to the Cardassian Border," said Ensign Jaxa as she too fingered controls. "I wonder why we're going there."

No response out of him. Lavelle ignored her as he continued with the Helm navigational controls.

"How would you like to be a spider under that table," Sito added.

Finally, Lavelle turned to her and gave her a responce, but not the one she had hoped for. "What?"

"A spider? Under the table?" she said again.

"It's that like a fly on the wall?" he replied.

A grin spread across the yellow-uniformed Ensign's lips, as she replied, looking at the large viewscreen, "I guess so!"

The two of them chuckled.

"You did really well during the drill," said Sito.

Lavelle released a edgy sigh. He appreciated the compliment but had hoped those were the words out of Commander Riker's mouth instead. "Really? Well..." Another sigh. "Apparently, Commander Riker didn't think so. I swear he's got it in for me."

"You're imagining things." Sito was partly joking.

Lavelle was trying hard not to look offended. He was perturbed as he worked the controls, and didn't bother to even look at his same-ranked female comtemporary. "Oh, yeah? Well, why is it that you're sitting in that chair instead of me."

Sito didn't know, but she didn't want to tell him that. She read the discomfort in Lavelle like a book. His bitter tone helped her do so. "I guess he figured that I needed a bit more practice than you do?" she suggested. The two young Ensigns grinned at each other, a bit falsley. Even Lavelle managed to deliver a grin. Then, the two of them returned to work.

Meanwhile, in main engineering, Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge walked in from his office, carrying a pad in his hand. Ensign Taurik fingered the keys of the pool table in the middle of the corridor-like room. Geordi looked around as he walked toward him. Taurik stopped when Geordi got close enough.

"Excuse me, sir," said Taurik. "Do you have a minute?"

"Sure, Taurik," Geordi replied. "What is it?"

"I was wondering if you could take a look at something."

Geordi moved to the other side of Taurik and took a good look at the controls. "Have you been improvising again, Ensign?" he cooed.

"In a matter of speaking, I'm running a computer simulation to test a new warp field configuration."

Geordi studied the console indicated by Taurik. He sighed. "You've got a problem right here, and it's that the plasma flow in the nacelles is out of sync."

"Actually, sir, that was... done deliberately..." Taurik said nervously as he looked into Geordi's VISOR. Taurik took his pad away and moved to the end as he continued, "As you can see, this configuration has increased overall warp field integrity by seven percent."

"You're right!" Geordi sighed in approval, impressed.

"Doctor Nils Diaz has been experimenting with this technique at the Tanaline Propulsion Laboratory."

Geordi spoke as he studied the readouts. "Oh, yeah. I know his work, but I never heard anything about this."

"His findings have not been released yet." Taurik handed him his red pad. "I was able to review a preliminary report when I was at the Academy."

Geordi studied his pad intently. "I'll look forward to reading about it."

"I predict that when these findings are made public, they will becomea new model for warp field operation."

"Sounds interesting," said Geordi as he started away.

"With your permission, I would like to begin tests to see if the technique can be adapted to our warp drive."

Geordi nodded negatively. "I don't know. There might be variables you didn't account for."

Taurik considered the possibility.

"I was quite thorough."

"I'm sure you were... but I'd like to look over your simulation before I authorize any tests."

"As you wish."

"If you have any other ideas for improving efficiency, feel free to run them by me." Geordi wore a half-smile as he continued into the corridor.

"As a matter of fact, sir," replied Taurik. "I do. When would be a good time to discuss them?"

The only reason Geordi restrained himself from his frustration is because he asked for it. "I'll get back to you on that," replied Geordi as he pointed to him with the pad, partly to kill the conversation as he continued down the corridor.

In Sickbay, Ensign Alyssa Ogawa went to Beverly Crusher's office to deliver a piece of news. Was it good or bad? There was no way of telling by the look on her face. She stood in the arch of the doorless walkway, seeing that her advisor was visibly occupied with a terminal system. She cleared her throat authoratively to acquire her attention. "Excuse me, doctor," said the Asian nurse. Beverly turned to her nurse. Crew evaluations was the first thing that came to mind. It was the main thing on her mind, or so she thought. She sighed and pointed her pen at her as she spoke.

"If you're wondering about Crew Evaluations, things couldn't be better."

A smile spread across Ogawa's lips. But she didn't want herself to get too excited. "Actually, I just wanted to tell you that Ensign Riley's condition is showing some improvement... but thank you!"

"In fact, I'm recommending you for a promotion!" Beverly delivered the good news of her own. "How does Lieutenant Alyssa Ogawa sound?"

An even bigger, brighter smile spread across her lips. Her mouth was wide opened. For a second, she was too excited to even speak. This was better that she could have hoped! Getting the promotion of the much-awaited Lieutenant Rank couldn't have been easier. "It sounds wonderful!" she said estactically.

"I'm sure it does," said Beverly with pride before she turned and continued at the terminal. "I'll talk to Commander Riker and I'm sure it'll be official as soon as Crew Evaluations are over." Alyssa turns to exit, filled with glee. She was trying not to get too excited, if there was a "too excited", but failed. "Oh!" Beverly barked as she just remembered to tell her something. "Alyssa, before you shoot off, how are things between you and Lieutenant Powell?"

Alyssa's face turned sour, not knowing what to make of this. "Fine," she said simply as she went into her office. Then she was unsure if that was the word that should've came out of her mouth. "I think," were the next two words that slid out.

"You think?" Beverly asked in a confronting manner.

Ogawa's smile faded. She had to take a deep breath and take the little bit of time she gave herself to think this through. "I-I'm sure it's nothing. He seems... pre-occupied lately. Last night, he had to cancel our date."

"I see," Beverly Crusher agreed.

"He's be putting together a research proposal," she concluded. "And he's been pretty busy with it!"

Beverly looked up. "Yeah? Well, I know what that's like. Sometimes, I, myself, get so busy with research I forget to eat."

"I just wonder," Ogawa started, then collected her thoughts.

Beverly looked up and snapped her a look of concern. "You wonder what? Sit down."

She did, taking her seat across from Beverly. "I've never met anyone like Andrew. It's as though we've known each other forever."

"You do seem very well-suited," Beverly said with a friendly grin.

"But..." doubted Ogawa. "I know in the beginning of a romance, it's possible to be a little blind."

Beverly tried to piece this together in her head. Her eyes thinned as she failed to do so. "I'm not sure I know what you mean?"

"Well, canceling a date like that, the way he's been so distant lately... doctor, do you think those could be warning signs... that he's loosing interest?"

"Alyssa?" Beverly grinned more. "I think you're overreacting."

She hoped that she was right. "Maybe so," she said with a hoping nod.

"If I cared about someone as much as you did about Andrew, he'd have to do a lot more than cancel a date before I'd get suspicious."

Ogawa chuckled almost silently. "You're right!"

"I'm sure when this research is over, things will be back to the way they were!" Bevery said before returning to her terminal.

Alyssa rose from her seat. "Except of course that he'd have to deal with Lieutenant Ogawa!" she said gleefully. Beverly nodded in agreement and watched her as she finally shot off with excitement.

In Ten Forward, the dark, amber brown doors parted. Worf and Troi entered the room. Troi was a bit surprised to see that the room wasn't as filled with many crew as last night.

"I thought I'd go for a promotion myself," said Deanna as she and her Klingon lover slowly went to the bar area. "Since Wil jokingly called me a Commander, it made me interested in the idea even more. Do you think you'd get used to the name Commander Deanna Troi?"

"In a fashionable timeframe," Worf replied as he looked down to Troi. "But I'd miss Lieutenant Commander Deanna Troi."

"I would still serve as ship's counselor."

"Of course you would." Off his reply, Worf noticed Ensign Sito at the bar as Troi did Lavelle and Tauric at a table. "Excuse me, counselor," said Worf. "I'd like a word with Ensign Sito."

"Certainly!" she accepted. Then, they both went their separate ways. Troi cautiously went over to visit Lavelle and Taurik. She saw they were in the middle of the game and did not want to interupt. But they both paused for a half a minute, thinking to themselves. "How is everything?" asked the deep voice of a woman with that distinctive accent of hers. But Lavelle didn't feel like being bothered by anyone else. His eyes looked at the body standing in front of him. The steel blue eyes navagated up the body of the woman. Lavelle found her an attractive woman - her nice auburn hair, full firm breasts, a slim waist, shapely hips, the blue and black Starfleet uniform that nicely accenduated her slim figure.

"I'm... just fine," he murmured as he furrowed his lips. His words and tone were all but convicing. Troi didn't need her Betazoid telepathic abilities to know that.

"Is there something bothering you?" she asked in concern.

"Other than that promotion I'm itching for, no." He looked down to the grid board and put a black ball into a slot.

"Is Commander Riker not approving of you?"

"He dislikes me," Lavelle barked. "I know it."

Deanna cocked her head and furrowed her brows, a bit concerned with his abrupt reply. "What makes you believe that?"

"If you were there to see the whole thing, you'd know what I mean," he sighed. "His tone when he speaks to me is so... I dunno stern!"

"He can be that way at times," she gave the understanding reply. "But if you really got to know him, you'd see that he's a nice man to talk to."

"Exactly," added Taurik. "Plus, he doesn't even know you!"

But Lavelle has had enough of Taurik. He ignored him. "Bzzz!" he hissed. He widened his eyes. "Yeah! Easy for you to talk to! You and he were all giggles and jokes last night... from what I saw."

Ben approached the three officers, carrying a black tray in his hands. On it were three glasses, all of which filled with red-colored drinks. "Care for a drink, counselor?" Ben offered. He was glad that the lounge wasn't as busy. He knew what this meant - more time to stay and talk.

She helped herself to a glass by gently removing it from the black tray. "Thank you," said she before gulping down half its contents.

"You're welcome!" he replied. "Would either of you?"

Taurik held up a hand to decline. Lavelle accepted the offer and took a glass. Ben reserved the last glass for himself. When Troi and Ben finished their drinks, he set down the tray on the table and went to put away the used and empty glasses, and even gave Sito and Worf each a drink of their own. Lavelle didn't even touch his drink yet. He couldn't help but to notice what an attractive-looking woman Troi was. He was curious as to why she wasn't sitting. "Nobody's sitting there, you know." Lavelle pointed to the empty seat across from him. "You can take it if you want."

"I'm fine," Deanna insisted. "I'll stand. But thank you."

Lavelle knew blue-uniformed officers were either science or medical officers. He used that to render a new conversation. He watched as Ben returned and removed the tray from the table but ignored him too. "So, uhh, what exactly is your rank here? Are you a medical officer?"

"She's a Lieutenant Commander according to her insignia," Taurik chimed in.

"I wasn't talking to you!" Lavelle barked, his sharpening as he struggled to restrain his temper.

"Take it easy," Troi said with her hand out to prevent a fight. "And he is right. But I also serve as ship's counselor."

"He asked you about your rank and I was simply informing him," Taurik butted again.

"But Ensign, he asked me," Troi replied, quickly as she wanted to say something before Lavelle did that would cause a fight. "As far as my rank in position goes, I guess you could say I'm with the ship's medical unit as counseling does in a way correlate to the study of psychology and the medical study of the living mind as well." Troi had more to add but didn't want to sound too technical. Besides, she was clear enough. "Now, if you boys will excuse me, I'll be seeing Doctor Crusher right now."

"Okay!" Taurik dismissed her.

"See ya later," said Lavelle, without much of a grin.

Troi delivered a grin herself and left Ten Forward. Coincidentally, both Worf and Lavelle watched her exit.

"She's hot," Lavelle muttered. "Too hot not to notice."

"I wouldn't go to far with that," said Ben. "I think that Klingon guy's her husband."

"What do you mean, she's married?"

"I dunno," said Ben. "That's why I said I think!"

At the bar, Worf listened intently to Sito.

"I only filled in at Ops for a half-hour, but I had to degauss the main deflector dish, recalibrate the navigation grid, and use the internal sensors to find a lost puppy."

"Ops is a very different challenge from Tactical," replied the Klingon.

Sito was certain. She didn't in the least bit disagree. Very different, yes. But she started to second-guess herself as she saw it as a very difficult challenge from Tactical. "I can't figure out why I'm even being considered for this assignment!" she stressed, before looking down at the table, parting her hands as she finished. "I'm a security officer."

Worf sighed himself. He gathered his thoughts. "I recommended you," he comforted.

Sito looked up at him, her face socked with shock. There was no emphasizing how grafeful and excited she was to hear this. She was the next one to collect her thoughts. "I'll try not to let you down, sir," she promised.

"What could they be talking about?" wondered Lavelle returning to his default and bitter mood.

Taurik has had enough of his eavesdropping. But unlike his red-uniformed peer, he was good at masking his feelings. Troi would've noticed Taurik's dismay had she had stayed just a little longer. "Have you ever considered learning to lip read?"

"Do you think Worf's chewing her out?" he asked patiently. But had Troi not come at all, Lavelle definately would've chewed Taurik out. He really wanted to do so but he restrained his bitterness with much effort. The doors parted, letting someone in.

"Oh, nooooo! He always looks like that," Ben chimed in as he looked dead-on at the two yellow-uniformed officers.

"Maybe he's giving her pointers on how to land the Ops position," he said coldly as he finally took the first sip from his beverage. The trace of envy in his remark was very much noticable here.

"Hi, Wil!" Ben across the room excitedly.

Riker gave the waiter his attention and greeted him with a friendly grin. "Ben!" he replied before sitting at the same seat at the bar as last night. "How you doing?" he greeted the bartender. Lavelle glanced at Ben in disbelief. He dread the possible outcome of refering to Commander Riker as "Wil", and knew better not to do so.

"You call him "Wil"?" he asked in disgust.

"Yeah! Why not?" Ben replied.

"He's second in command of the ship. That's why not!" said Lavelle bitterly.

"I'm not Starfleet!" he said gleefully, a bit teasingly as he took the seat his listener offered Troi just minutes ago. Then he lazily finished, "I'm a civilian. And when he's in here, he wants to be treated like a civilian."

"Riker?" Lavelle sat back and settled steadily into his chair as he grumbled, "I bet he sleeps in his uniform."

"You only think that because he's your C.O," suggested Ben. "But if you get to know him-"

"Right!" said Lavelle, quickly dismissing this.

Taurik leaned in from his seat, crossing his arms over the table as he side-talked to Ben, "He's convinced Commander Riker doesn't "like" him."

Ben saw this coming from miles away but acted as though he was stunned with a bit of surprise. "Why? Did you crash the ship into somethin'?"

In the short time Lavelle and his Ensign peers were on the ship, he knew Troi and Ben just the same - not very well. But he wasn't as close to Ben as he was to Troi, perhaps due to his interest in her. "No! He just doesn't like me," he said quickly, in an attempt to kill the conversation.

"I told you, Lavelle," said Taurik. "He doesn't even know you!"

Lavelle fired Taurik yet another bitter look. But Ben couldn't help but to agree.

"That's right," agreed Ben. He pointed and even suggested, "You should go talk to him."

It wasn't much of a challenge to tell that Lavelle thought this wasn't much of a good idea. "About what?" he wondered, hid fingers encircled around his still-filled glass. What would Troi think of all this? He wondered.

"Perhaps something you have in common," Taurik advised.

"He likes jazz, poker! He's Canadian!" said Ben.

"Oh, yeah! My grandfather was from Canada," said Lavelle with a bit of excitement.

"There you go!" Ben replied excitedly and quickly.

"Hi," said a familiar female voice. No, not Troi. This voice was more high-pitched and more known to Lavelle who was already deep in thought. He looked up and saw Ensign Sito, holding a cup of fizzing root beer in her hand. He came to the realization that Sito wanted a seat at this table but one was unavailable. Sure, she could have pulled one to it but Lavelle saved her from having to do so.

"I've gotta go talk to somebody," he said just audible enough for Sito for hear. This moment, and the encouragement of Ben and Taurik was more than enough to send him from it and break the ice. Lavelle went over to the bar. Wil Riker was still at it, taking a sip of his drink. Ben watched him do so. Riker was drinking and working on a pad, so he didn't notice him at first. "Good evening, sir," Lavelle greeted timidly to get his attention, feeling that he was bound for failure. This wasn't going to work, he thought.

Riker was friendly and in a good mood. Worf exited Ten Forward and met up with Troi somewhere in the corridor. "Lavelle," he replied.

All Lavelle could do was linger awkwardly, with a grin, unsure of what to say. An uncomfortable moment of silence and Riker wasn't sure if he wanted something. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Lavelle spoke blindly. "Oh, no sir! I just came to see if I could get myself another drink," he said quickly, right before realizing it was a stupid reply.

Riker was puzzled, seeing the drink already in his hand. It looked as though he barely even drank from it. A brow rose. "Is there something wrong with that one?"

"No! Actually, I, uhh..." Lavelle's brain gave him a question to shoot Riker with as he wanted nothing but out of the embarassing moment. Plus, the bartender was already at him. "What do you have in your hand?"

"Trakian Ale," replied Riker.

"Good choice," he falsely praised. "I'll have one too," he told the bartender, sending him off to get one. Lavelle leaned over and folded his arms over the counter. "My grandfather was Canadian, you know."

"Really?" Riker replied with false interest. The reply wasn't too satisfying and he wondered why.

"Aren't you one too?" he asked to confirm with wrinkled brows.

"A grandfather?" Riker was slightly offender.

Lavelle chuckled penitently. "Canadian, sir. Canadian."

Riker smiled himself. "No, I grew up in Alaska."

Dumbfounded, Lavelle's smile faded. "Oh." He let his brain do the rest of the talking. "Well... they both... get a lot of snow..."

Riker wondered what his point was but didn't bother to ask. "Yeah," he chuckled it off and took a sip of his Trakian Ale.

Lavelle quit. He just wanted out. "It was good talking to you, sir," said Lavelle before he left abruptly, leaving his drink behind.

"Yeah," agreed Riker as he swallowed his drink.

"Your Ale, Ensign!" the bar called out to Lavelle, but he disregarded it. Riker chuckled to himself at the uncomfortable moment. He never truely desired it as he ignored the bartender as he left Ten Forward harbored with blame. He placed more blame on himself than on Ben for misleading him.

"You think about what you bring about, huh?" he murmured under his breath. He remembered those words from his mother before he joined the Starfleet Academy. He knew this was going to fail, and what was the result? He failed. Maybe he'd have better luck with Troi, he figgured. But there, he would run into two problems. She was already involved with Worf and secondly, she wasn't his advisor. He wished she was.

The tubolift doors on the bridge opened, and Captain Picard walked out of them.

"They're holding position in the Argaya system," announced Commander Riker, seeing Picard coming out. Picard moved to Worf at Tactacal.

"Anything?" he asked.

"No, sir," said Worf. "I detect no vessals in the vicinity."

"Mister Data, how close to the Cardassian border are we?" was Picard's next question.

Data fingered his Ops controls. "Less than five thousand kilometers, sir," replied the android.

"Sir," muttered Worf. "I'm detecting an object... five meters in length... and it appears to be an escape pod!"

"The pilot must have been forced to abandon the ship," concluded Commander Riker.

"How far inside Cardassian space is it?" Picard asked Worf.

"Fifty thousand kilometers."

Picard inhaled and exhaled a deep sigh of grim and disgust. "How the hell are we gonna get it out of there?" wondered he.

"Do you suppose we could try communicating with them?" suggested Troi, dressed in her uniform, and seated at the last of the three chairs.

"They're too far away from us that we can lock on to them, Counselor," said Riker. "That's not possible."

Riker, Troi, Picard, and Lavelle's face were all filled with disgust and uncertainty.

"Sir, the pod's life support system is failing," announced Data as his mechanical eyes scanned his Ops controls.

"Notify Doctor Crusher," commanded Riker.

"Can we get within transporter range without crossing into Cardassian territory?" asked Picard as he descended the ramp, by Troi.

"We would need to boost the gain on the confinement beam by at least seven percent," replied Data as Picard came to him.

"Mister LaForge!" Picard called out.

"I'm on it, Captain," replied Geordi as he fingered the controls at the table in Main Engineering, not far from Ensign Taurik. "Try it now," he told Taurik, who worked the other side of the pool table.

"The pod is still too far away," said he.

"I'm going to try augmenting the frequency spread," said Geordi.

The two of them fingered the commands of the table.

"Bio-readings indicate that the passenger is humanoid. Attempting life-form identification," said Taurik.

"No one told you to do that, Ensign," said Geordi, sternly as he pointed at him. Taurik stood straight and gave Geordi a confused and timid look. "Let's just get him aboard safely." Geordi and Taurik continued to work. "There, that should do it.

"Confinement beam is at one hundred nine percent of normal."

Geordi hit his combadge. "Transporter room, you should be able to get a lock now."

"_Aye, sir_," replied the voice.

In Sickbay, a biobed was being prepared by Ogawa and Crusher.

"_Doctor Crusher, are you ready?_" Picard's voice filled Sickbay.

"Standby," she replied as she prepared some equiptment. "Alyssa, I'm afriad I'm gonna have to ask you to leave now," she muttered.

It took Alyssa Ogawa a second for her to digest this command. "Alright, doctor," she replied before she exited the room.

Doctor Beverly Crusher watched her exit, then she hit her combadge. "Transporter room, go ahead."

"_Aye, sir._"

Noisy shimmers of blue and white covered the biobed. A body was being manifested on it.

Alyssa Ogawa exited the doors of Sickbay and was surprised to see Ensign Sito standing beside the door. "What are you doing out here?"

"I'm not supposed to let anybody but the senior officers inside Sickbay," replied Sito.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" she asked as she folded her blue arms.

Sito shrugged that she didn't know.

Alyssa looked over and saw Picard coming. "I better go," she said before walking away.

Captain Picard walked powerfully down the corridor and stopped at the Sickbay doors.

"Ensign?" he said to her.

"Sir?" she replied.

A pause. Picard walked into Sickbay and she watched him go in, a look of uncertainty filling her Bajoran face.

The bridge. A turbolift opened. A bunch of crewmembers exited it.

"Twelve-hundred hours. Alpha-shift is relieved," said Riker as he descended the ramp with a short-haired, red-uniformed, dark-skinned woman followed him down. Data rose from Ops and walked into a turbolift. Troi rose from her seat and went into the same turbolift as Data.

Lavelle rose from his seat at the Helm. "Excuse me, sir?" Lavelle got Riker's attention. "If you don't mind, I'd like to stay on for a second shift. I could use some more training."

Riker closed his eyes and opened them again, before replying firmly. "Now's not the best time."

Disappointment clouded Lavelle's face. But he replied politely, "Aye, sir." He ascended the bridge ramp and went into the turbolift the Alpha-shift crewmembers came out of.

The Sickbay doors spread open, and out walked Captain Picard, into the corridor.

"Ensign, you're with me," he said a bit sternly without breaking the slightest bit of stride.

Surprised by Picard's request, it took her a second to comply and she followed him in step. The two moved down the corridor in silence and rounded a corner to the nearest Turbolift. Their doors opened to permit the exit of two red-uniformed crewmembers, one of which being Ensign Lavelle who caught Sito's attention. The two Ensigns locked eyes for a second. Not a word exited the mouths of Sito or Lavelle as he moved down the corridor and Picard and Sito into the evacuated Turbolift.

"Bridge," called Picard. The Turbolift beeped and ascended in compliance.

As the Turbolift rose to transport, an uncomfortable cloud of silence filled the air. Picard's mind was occupied like a busy highway.

"You are a certified pilot, Ensign," said Picard to kill the quietness.

"Yes, sir," she replied, a bit hesitant.

It was only a matter of seconds until the turbolift brought them to the Main Bridge where Sito followed Picard to his Ready Room where the captain took his seat at his desk and Sito stood before him.

"How long have you served on board the Enterprise, Ensign?" asked Picard as he settled into his chair and straightened his uniform by its waistband.

"Seven months, sir," replied Sito calmly.

"I understand that you have been recommended for the Ops position. Do you think you're up to it?"

"I do, sir." Sito was nervous but tried to keep a forthcoming expression. She really wanted to hear that she was about to be promoted but doubted that anything of the sort was exiting his mouth.

"I'm not so sure," Picard disagreed. "I'm concerned about your record."

Her smile faded. She failed to keep her half-smile. "Sir?"

"The incident that you were involved in at the Academy!"

Her heart trembled with so much fear that it started to show a bit through her yellow uniform. This was a worst nightmare come true for Sito.

"With all-due respect, sir, that was three years ago," Sito said calmly. "My records since then-"

"It doesn't matter how long ago it happened, Ensign!" Picard stated, his tone growing firmer and firmer with each sentence exiting his mouth. "Tell me, Ensign. Would you do something like that again?"

"I can assure you, sir, that I would never jepardize lives by participating in-"

"By participating in a daredevil stunt?" Picard finished the Bajoran's sentence. "I certantly hope not! What concerns me more is that you participated in a coverup that impeded an official investigation into the death of a cadet."

"Sir, I know I should have told the truth right then and there but I-"

"Yes, you should have! But you didn't! Instead you joined with the others in pretending that what had happened was nothing more than an accident. What do you suppose that tells me about your character?"  
She was completely shocked now.

"Sir, if you had any idea what it was like after that case, I didn't have any friends, nor did I have anyone to talk to. I had to take my flight exam with the instructor because none of the students were willing to be my partner. If you were standing in my position back then, you'd clearly see that it probably would have been much easier to just walk away and drop out of the Academy. But I didn't! I stuck with it! Doesn't that say something about my character, too? Sir?"  
Picard's tone was dismissing and sarcastic but he offered a bit of sympathy.

"Well, I'm very sorry that you didn't enjoy your time at the Academy, Ensign." He leaned in. "But as far as I'm concern you should've been expelled for what you did and considering the seriousness of such a thing, I'm surprised you weren't. Quite frankly, I don't know how you made it onto my ship." Picard stood still for a moment and waited for a reply of defense, but she was so rattled by his words that she could not. With the uncomfortably-long pause, he added,

"You're dismissed."

She gave him a troubled look as Picard gave her a grim one. Sito took a few steps backward until she turned around to exit. Picard sat back as he watched her go. Ensign Sito rushed into the next doors. A Turbolift.

"Deck 8," she demanded.

* * *

[Any and all feedback is welcomed, negative or positive.]


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